


Broken Metaphors

by anneadley5584



Category: The Fault in Our Stars - John Green
Genre: Cigarettes, F/M, Metaphors and Meaning, Pain demands to be felt, Post funeral, Six months later, lighters, some days were worse than others, some were just barely tolerable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:17:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2301158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anneadley5584/pseuds/anneadley5584
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hazel Grace Lancaster struggles to cope after Augustus's funeral and tries to find solace in a broken metaphor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Metaphors

It had been almost six months since Gus's funeral. Some days were worse than others and some were just nearly tolerable with Isaac there. Even with those barely tolerable days though, life was still Hell without August Waters to liven it up with talks of metaphors and meaning. Hazel hadn't picked up An Imperial Affliction since Gus died. At least not until today. For the last six months the only books she had read were The Price of Dawn, Midnight Dawns and Requiem for Mayhem, his favorites. The reason that today was different was that she needed to find a specific page. Well, a specific quote for that matter.

_Pain demands to be felt._

She could hear Gus quoting the words in her head.

_Pain demands to be felt._

She could see Gus smiling at her.

_Pain demands to be felt._

She could still taste the champagne stars and Belgian white asparagus.

_Pain demands to be felt._

**_Felt_.** That was the biggest problem. Hazel could no longer feel him. Feel his hands entwined with hers. Feel the sharp turns he took when driving on the edge of what could be defined as safe enough. Feel his lips against hers. Hazel had temporarily found some comfort in Gus’s cigarette metaphor. Hazel Grace no longer existed. Hazel Grace had been buried alongside Augustus. Only Hazel remained and Hazel had formed a habit of keeping a pack of cigarettes with her at all times while one could usually be found being held unlit between her teeth. It had helped for some time knowing that oblivion had not taken over completely in the wake of his death. Both Hazel and Isaac had actively taken up participation in the metaphor afterwards in memory. Once in a while they would even see someone from their support group or from school honoring the boy in the same way. The mark of the metaphor was one that oblivion had not yet swallowed whole into its deep vastness of things no longer remembered. It would surely be seen as a small victory to Gus if he were watching. That comfort however was of no use these days when it had worn off and dissipated. There didn't seem to be any point without Gus there.

_“As the tide washed in, the Dutch Tulip Man faced the ocean: “Conjoinder rejoinder poisoner concealer revelator. Look at it, rising up and rising down, taking everything with it.” “What’s that?” I asked. “Water,” the Dutchman said. “Well, and time.”_

Hazel understood the Imperial Affliction quote now more than ever as time had brought her down, had brought her here to Gus’s grave with a cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. After so long of feeling like she had been drowning in an ocean of sorrow, Hazel had finally washed upon shore with the one thing that had so many before her alive and would continue to do so now in an ironic sort of way. Fire. Although in this circumstance it was the fire of a lighter and ironically could aid in killing her in the long term but in the shorter term it was fire that save her. Hazel toyed with the cigarette she had taken from her package before finally placing in between her teeth as she was so used to doing and flipped the top lid off of the lighter.

_“It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don't give it the power to do its killing.”_

What did that lack of power even mean anymore? Everyone was dying, some quicker than others, Hazel included. Gus was already dead. What was the point of it all? Why bother having them unlit?

_“…you do have some choice in who hurts you.”_

_You also have some choice in_ what _hurts you_ Hazel thought before lighting the cigarette.

Augustus and cigarettes. She liked her choices. Augustus’s death had broken Hazel on the inside and it hurt every day. Some things were meant to be like Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace Lancaster’s love and Gus’s untimely departure. But now Hazel was a broken girl dying of cancer and Augustus’s words were now a broken metaphor.

No longer was Augustus alone in lighting up like a Christmas tree. Hazel’s cigarettes had finally joined him.


End file.
